1Cademy - دفتر ششم - بخش ۶۳ - مثل / Book Six - Section 63

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مثنوی معنوی: دفتر ششم / Masnavi: Book Six

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دفتر ششم - بخش ۶۳ - مثل / Book Six - Section 63 - A Parable

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عارفی پرسید از آن پیر کشیش
که توی خواجه مسن تر یا که ریش

گفت نه من پیش ازو زاییده ام
بی ز ریشی بس جهان را دیده ام

گفت ریشت شد سپید از حال گشت
خوی زشت تو نگردیده ست وشت

او پس از تو زاد و از تو بگذرید
تو چنین خشکی ز سودای ثرید

تو بر آن رنگی که اول زاده ای
یک قدم زان پیش تر ننهاده ای

هم چنان دوغی ترش در معدنی
خود نگردی زو مخلص روغنی

هم خمیری خمر طینه دری
گرچه عمری در تنور آذری

چون حشیشی پا به گل بر پشته ای
گرچه از باد هوس سرگشته ای

هم چو قوم موسی اندر حر تیه
مانده ای بر جای چل سال ای سفیه

می روی هر روز تا شب هروله
خویش می بینی در اول مرحله

نگذری زین بعد سیصد ساله تو
تا که داری عشق آن گوساله تو

تا خیال عجل از جانشان نرفت
بد بریشان تیه چون گرداب زفت

غیر این عجلی کزو یابیده ای
بی نهایت لطف و نعمت دیده ای

گاو طبعی زان نکوییهای زفت
از دلت در عشق این گوساله رفت

باری اکنون تو ز هر جزوت بپرس
صد زبان دارند این اجزای خرس

ذکر نعمتهای رزاق جهان
که نهان شد آن در اوراق زمان

روز و شب افسانه جویانی تو چست
جزو جزو تو فسانه گوی تست

جزو جزوت تا برستست از عدم
چند شادی دیده اند و چند غم

زانک بی لذت نروید هیچ جزو
بلک لاغر گردد از هی پیچ جزو

جزو ماند و آن خوشی از یاد رفت
بل نرفت آن خفیه شد از پنج و هفت

هم چو تابستان که از وی پنبه زاد
ماند پنبه رفت تابستان ز یاد

یا مثال یخ که زاید از شتا
شد شتا پنهان و آن یخ پیش ما

هست آن یخ زان صعوبت یادگار
یادگار صیف در دی این ثمار

هم چنان هر جزو جزوت ای فتی
در تنت افسانه گوی نعمتی

چون زنی که بیست فرزندش بود
هر یکی حاکی حال خوش بود

حمل نبود بی ز مستی و ز لاغ
بی بهاری کی شود زاینده باغ

حاملان و بچگانشان بر کنار
شد دلیل عشق بازی با بهار

هر درختی در رضاع کودکان
هم چو مریم حامل از شاهی نهان

گرچه در آب آتشی پوشیده شد
صد هزاران کف برو جوشیده شد

گرچه آتش سخت پنهان می تند
کف به ده انگشت اشارت می کند

هم چنین اجزای مستان وصال
حامل از تمثالهای حال و قال

در جمال حال وا مانده دهان
چشم غایب گشته از نقش جهان

آن موالید از زه این چار نیست
لاجرم منظور این ابصار نیست

آن موالید از تجلی زاده اند
لاجرم مستور پردهٔ ساده اند

زاده گفتیم و حقیقت زاد نیست
وین عبارت جز پی ارشاد نیست

هین خمش کن تا بگوید شاه قل
بلبلی مفروش با این جنس گل

این گل گویاست پر جوش و خروش
بلبلا ترک زبان کن باش گوش

هر دو گون تمثال پاکیزه مثال
شاهد عدل اند بر سر وصال

هر دو گون حسن لطیف مرتضی
شاهد احبال و حشر ما مضی

هم چو یخ کاندر تموز مستجد
هر دم افسانهٔ زمستان می کند

ذکر آن اریاح سرد و زمهریر
اندر آن ازمان و ایام عسیر

هم چو آن میوه که در وقت شتا
می کند افسانهٔ لطف خدا

قصهٔ دور تبسمهای شمس
وآن عروسان چمن را لمس و طمس

حال رفت و ماند جزوت یادگار
یا ازو واپرس یا خود یاد آر

چون فرو گیرد غمت گر چستیی
زان دم نومید کن وا جستیی

گفتییش ای غصهٔ منکر به حال
راتبهٔ انعامها را زان کمال

گر بهر دم نت بهار و خرمیست
هم چو چاش گل تنت انبار چیست

چاش گل تن فکر تو هم چون گلاب
منکر گل شد گلاب اینت عجاب

از کپی خویان کفران که دریغ
بر نبی خویان نثار مهر و میغ

آن لجاج کفر قانون کپیست
وآن سپاس و شکر منهاج نبیست

با کپی خویان تهتکها چه کرد
با نبی رویان تنسکها چه کرد

در عمارتها سگانند و عقور
در خرابیهاست گنج عز و نور

گر نبودی این بزوغ اندر خسوف
گم نکردی راه چندین فیلسوف

زیرکان و عاقلان از گمرهی
دیده بر خرطوم داغ ابلهی

English translation

A mystic asked that old priest, 'Are you, sir, older or your beard?' He said, 'No, I was born before it; I have seen much of the world without a beard.' He said, 'Your beard has turned white and changed its state, Yet your ugly disposition has not changed its nature. It was born after you and has passed you by; You are so dry and inflexible from the passion for soaked bread (worldly greed). You remain of the exact same color as when you were first born; You have not taken a single step forward from that. Like sour buttermilk in a skin-bag, You have not transformed to yield pure butter from within. You are still the same dough of clay, though you were kneaded, Even though you have spent a lifetime in the oven of fire (trials). Like dry grass, your feet are stuck in the mud on a hill, Even though you are bewildered by the wind of desire. Like the people of Moses in the heat of the wandering (the desert of Tih), You have remained in the same place for forty years, O fool! You jog every day until night, Yet you see yourself still at the first stage. You will not pass beyond this even after three hundred years, As long as you maintain your love for that calf. Until the phantom of the calf left their souls, The desert was to them like a fierce whirlpool. Other than this calf from which you gained nothing, You have seen infinite grace and bounty. You have a bovine nature, hence those massive bounties Left your heart out of love for this calf. Anyway, now ask every part of yourself; These parts of the bear have a hundred tongues. The remembrance of the bounties of the Provider of the world, Which were hidden in the leaves of time. Day and night you eagerly seek tales, Yet every part of you is telling you tales. Since every part of you escaped from non-existence, How much joy have they seen, and how much sorrow? Because without pleasure no part grows; Indeed, it becomes lean from every twist of pain. The part remained, and that joy was forgotten; Rather, it did not leave, it became hidden from the five (senses) and the seven (planets/intellects). Like summer from which cotton was born; The cotton remained, but the summer faded from memory. Or like ice that is born of winter; Winter became hidden, while the ice remains before us. That ice is a memorial of that severity; These fruits in winter are memorials of the summer. In the same way, every part of you, O youth! Is a tale-teller of a bounty in your body. Like a woman who has twenty children; Every single one is a narrator of a state of bliss. Pregnancy does not occur without intoxication and playfulness; Without spring, how can an orchard become fruitful? The pregnant ones and their babies by their side Became the proof of making love to the spring. Every tree, in nursing its children (fruits), Is like Mary, pregnant by a hidden King. Although a fire was hidden in the water, A hundred thousand foams boiled upon it. Though the fire weaves (burns) very secretly, The foam points to it with ten fingers. In the same way, the parts of those intoxicated with Union Are pregnant with the images of spiritual state and speech. At the beauty of the state, their mouths are left agape; Their eyes have become absent to the forms of the world. Those offspring are not from the womb of these four (elements); Consequently, they are not the objects of these physical eyes. Those offspring are born of Divine manifestation; Thus, they are hidden behind a blank veil. We said 'born', but in truth there is no birth; And this expression is merely for the sake of guidance. Come, be silent so that the King of 'Say!' may speak; Do not boast of being a nightingale with this kind of rose. This Rose is speaking, full of fervor and clamor; O nightingale, abandon your tongue and become all ear! Both kinds of representation (forms), pure in example, Are just witnesses to the secret of Union. Both kinds of the subtle beauty of the Chosen One Are witnesses to the impregnation and the resurrection of what is past. Like ice which, renewed in midsummer, Relates the tale of winter at every moment. Reminding of those cold winds and intense frost During those times and difficult days. Like that fruit which in the season of winter Tells the tale of God's grace. The story of the era of the sun's smiles, And the touching and effacing of the brides of the meadow. The state has gone, and your part remained as a memorial; Either ask it (your part) or remember it yourself. When sorrow grips you, if you are nimble, You would search back from that moment of despair. You would say to it: 'O sorrow that denies the spiritual state! Consider the daily ration of bounties from that Perfection!' If you do not have spring and gladness at every breath, Then what is your body, like a stack of grain, a storehouse of? The stack of clay is the body; your thought is like rosewater. The rosewater denied the rose! This is a wonder. It is a pity that the ingratitude of those with monkey-like traits Scatters clouds of sorrow over the love of those with prophet-like traits. That stubbornness in disbelief is the law of the monkey; While that gratitude and thanks is the path of the Prophet. What has shamelessness done to the monkey-natured ones? And what has devotion done for the prophet-faced ones? In populated places, there are biting dogs; In ruins lies the treasure of might and light. If this emergence were not in eclipse, So many philosophers would not have lost their way. The clever and the intelligent, out of error, Have their sight branded on their snouts with the mark of foolishness.

Updated 2026-06-21

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